


Fake Out

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, Fake-Out Make-Out, M/M, post strike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2019-09-27 20:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17169227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: David saw Spot Conlon out of the corner of his eye, and bit back a word that he probably shouldn’t have even been thinking, let alone saying.  The last time he’d seen Spot had been… well, it had been interesting to say the least, and thanks to Jack, he’d been in a very compromising position at the time.  David shouldered his papers, and quickly ducked down a side street that he hadn’t been planning to take.  He was going to put any effort, per say, into avoiding Spot, but if he could just happen to coincidently get through the day without speaking to him, that might be for the best.





	Fake Out

David saw Spot Conlon out of the corner of his eye, and bit back a word that he probably shouldn’t have even been thinking, let alone saying. The last time he’d seen Spot had been… well, it had been interesting to say the least, and thanks to Jack, he’d been in a very compromising position at the time. David shouldered his papers, and quickly ducked down a side street that he hadn’t been planning to take. He was going to put any effort, per say, into avoiding Spot, but if he could just happen to coincidently get through the day without speaking to him, that might be for the best. 

Less than two minutes later David collided face first with the self proclaimed king of Brooklyn, who had come so out of nowhere that David might have been inclined to believe that he’d materialized magically out of the smoke the wafted up from the sewer grates. 

“What are you doing?” David demanded. “You aren’t even supposed to be here.”

Spot folded his arms, watching David steadily, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward like he was trying not to smile.

“Just where am I supposed to be, Mouth?” 

David made a gesture in the general direction that he judged the Brooklyn Bridge to be in.

“Just so happens that I have business down these parts,” Spot said. “Walk with me, Davey.” 

“I also have business ‘down these parts’ and it don’t… I mean, it doesn’t involve walking with you.” 

“You mean selling papers?” Spot asked. He was now openly smirking. 

“Yes,” David said, rather defensively. “You know, there was a point when I thought that was your business too, but since it apparently isn’t…” 

“Hey, how would you know what my business is, huh?” Spot demanded.

“You don’t have any newspapers.” 

David started to walk away. He didn’t call out any headlines, though. He felt weird doing that with Spot watching him. 

“How’re things with you and Jackey boy?” Spot asked, keeping step with David. David set his jaw in what he hoped with a firm line. 

“Nothing new to report,” David muttered. 

“Extra, extra! Walking Mouth Discovers Secret Meaning Behind His Nickname, Refuses To…”

Spot was cut off by David grabbing onto him to cover his mouth with his hand. It worked for half a second, then Spot bit him. Hard. David did swear this time. Almost before he knew what had hit him, he found himself pushed back against a brick wall. Spot backed away after that, dusting off his hands, not taking things any further. Taking his cue from Spot, David brushed himself off too, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. 

“The thing you saw, with me and Jack, wasn’t what it looked like,” David tried to explain. He hoped that he wasn’t blushing, but his face felt unaccountably warm for the cold November day. 

“You got that straight.” Spot started to walk off, hands in his pockets, leaving David to wonder how this conversation had been so easy. It made him nervous, though, just like he’d been since the whole thing had happened. Jack had dragged him over to Brooklyn, uninvited, claiming they had to find something of Mush’s that he’d forgotten down by the docks. What Mush had been doing in Brooklyn in the first place, why they needed to go there after dark, and what necessitated sneaking around like fugitives and avoiding everybody, had formed just the short list of things that David hadn’t known about the covert operation. He’d asked of course… and asked and asked, but sometimes making sure Jack didn’t drown or get killed or something was more important than asking the same questions over and over until his voice went hoarse.

David still didn’t know why they’d been there, to tell the truth. Nor did he know why Jack’s immediate reaction to Spot sneaking up behind them had been to grab onto David and kiss him with all his might. Somehow the way Jack had shouted out the word “resuscitation!” and grabbed onto David’s arm before bolting had rung less than true.

Jack wasn’t speaking to David much now. He seemed to be avoiding him.

“Wait!” David said, catching up with Spot. He held out his hands in a halting motion. “Just wait. What do you mean, that I’ve got that straight? Do you know what’s going on?” 

“You wanna tell me anything about it?” Spot asked. 

“No.” 

“Then I don’t got nothing to tell you neither.”

“But you do know something…” David persisted. 

Spot just continued to walk away, like he hadn’t even heard him.


End file.
